The Tempo Changes

The Tempo Changes

(“God is able to make all grace abound toward you, so that you, always having enough of everything, may abound to every good work.” 2 Corinthians 9:8)

Don’t worry about the tempo changes,
the tune will stay the same.
It’s the harmony of the springhead,
daylight running and nighttime
replying to the parting clouds. The
waters will rush, they will gurgle,
they will sometimes trickle,
but always seeking their own level,
overflow; capacity unlimited.
Would the river run to the sea where
the brackish meets the sweet? Would the
ecology change in a welcome flock of
fruit trees begging the rain with their leaves?

(I’m the sort of guy who notices when
someone’s glasses are askew. I know they can
afford
to have them leveled about their nose.)

With all the talk of mystic days along the
forest’s edge, the day invites further exploration.
But we hesitate, fretting we will find only mud;
we long to meet a doe who acts like she knows us.
Or a bluejay who is not frightened away by our clumsy
attempts at stealth. We would prefer to live more slowly,
if only the deceleration included a companion or two.
Nevertheless, the air is the same where the river touches
the sea,
and where the forest wraps itself around the village
on the river.

(I should admit, my glasses are crooked too. And to
my knowledge, no one has commented so far. The right
lens has been lower than the left for three years from yesterday.)

Don’t worry about the key change,
we will take it slowly. And if the day offers nothing but silence,
we will put it in the bank and bring it out the next time
the crowds are too deafening.